


Ssssseeeeeexxxxxxx

by staymagical



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Drunkenness, Gwaine Being Gwaine, Violence, light non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staymagical/pseuds/staymagical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine's goal for the night is to get Merlin laid and of course it doesn't go quite according to plan. Canon-verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ssssseeeeeexxxxxxx

**Author's Note:**

> Another theme challenge. Yeah, my friends think they are soooooooo funny

“Sooooooo _Mer_ lin,” Gwaine drawled, his drunken gaze shooting Merlin a sly grin. His eyes were unfocused and moved with the slight sway that had taken over the knight’s body. The servant looked sideways at the knight, wary. Nothing good ever came out of Gwaine’s mouth when he began a sentence like that. Especially when the knight had had more than a few drinks which, Merlin mused, was basically all hours of the day. “You seem to disappear occasionally, sometimes for days.” He winked and Merlin already knew what he was going to ask before the words left the drunken knight’s mouth. “Got a special lass we ought to know about?”

Merlin shook his head. “Nope. No time what with all the chores and—”

“Good,” Gwaine said, cutting off the young warlock as a sly grin spread across his face even further. He then turned and addressed the rest of the knights around the table. “Lads, I have decided the goal for tonight is to get our dear Merlin here laid.”

The knights all chuckled in various stages of mirth and drunkenness. Except for Leon, who at that moment had taken a drink and was now currently choking on the liquid. Percival slapped him on the back a couple of times until the man had gotten his breath back.

“Laid?” Merlin asked, confusion marring his face as the dark haired knight threw back the rest of his drink and slammed the empty stein down upon the table.

“It means seeeeeeexxxxxxxxxxxx,” Gwaine slurred ending the extended word with a hiccup.

The young warlock immediately blushed, dropping his gaze to stare into his half-full mug. Gwaine laughed at his reaction, slapping the young warlock on the back with a wink before stumbling to his feet to put his plan into action. Merlin groaned. This couldn’t be good.

* * * * *

The next hour was spent with Gwaine staggering up to every woman, charming her brains out then sending her Merlin’s way. Thankfully, the tavern they were currently residing in was lacking in the female variety and Merlin only had to engage in a few extremely awkward conversations ending in gentle rejections on his part. After the third and final one, Merlin caught up to Gwaine and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

“I think it’s time to call it a night Gwaine,” Merlin said, steadying the knight as he swayed drunkenly.

“Awww come on, Merlin. Not yet,” Gwaine pouted. “I haven’t achieved my goal for tonight.” He made to step away and would have fallen head first into the nearest table if Merlin hadn’t held on firmly to the knight. The young warlock sighed, slipping one of Gwaine’s arms across his shoulders in order to bear some the knight’s almost dead weight.

“No, I think you’ve had enough fun for one night,” Merlin chided, mockingly. “Let’s get you back.” Gwaine only gave a huff of disappointment but didn’t protest further as the two made their way toward the exit. Merlin gave the remaining knights a nod, letting them know he was taking Gwaine back to the knight’s chambers, before striding out the door and into the cool night air.

“You’re a good friend, Merlin,” Gwaine slurred. The young warlock just chuckled lightly as he hefted the knight further over his shoulder.

The duo staggering through the lower town, Gwaine mumbling incoherent nonsense while Merlin took more and more of the knight’s weight as they maneuvered between houses toward the castle. About half-way to the castle, the young warlock was forced to stop and rest as Gwaine’s weight started dragging him down. He lowered the knight gently to the ground, leaning Gwaine back against the wall of a shop so he wasn’t lying in the dirt. Even drunk and obviously unaware the man deserved to be treated with some respect. The knight’s eyes were closed, but a small smile still graced his lips.

Merlin stood, breathing heavily from the trek. Knights were heavy, even without the chainmail and armor.

The sound of uneven footsteps caused Merlin’s head to snap up in the direction of a nearby alleyway. He could just make out the shape of four shadowy figures within its depths making their way toward where he stood, Gwaine still slumped against the building at his feet.

“Come on, Gwaine,” Merlin said, crouching in front of the knight and tapping him lightly on the cheek to rouse him. “Time to move on.” Gwaine groaned unhappily, turning his head away from the young warlock. But he didn’t attempt to get up or even make any outward signs that he had understood what Merlin had said. Not good.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder toward the approaching men. Uneasiness swept through his body. It wasn’t exactly ideal to be caught out here in the middle of the night let alone burdened with a very drunken unresponsive knight. But there was no way he was going to leave Gwaine out here to his own devices.

Sighing in frustration, Merlin threw Gwaine’s arm over his shoulder and attempted to heft the knight upwards. But the man was dead weight now, completely unhelpful in Merlin’s endeavors to get him home and the young warlock was forced to abandon the task before they both toppled over and got hurt.

“Oh, hey what do we have here,” a voice drawled from behind Merlin. The young warlock turned around, a mask of easy going confidence slipping over his face as the gnawing anxiety only intensified. Four men stood before him. Two were large and burly, easily twice the girth of Merlin himself, the third was thinner but still tall and bulky while the fourth was short and stout. All four seemed a little unsteady on their feet, two swaying slightly and Merlin could smell the alcohol that permeated from the group. So they had been hitting the cups too. Great. Just his luck really.

The one at the forefront, one of the large burly men who had no doubt been the one to speak, had an unidentifiable look plastered across his unkempt face. He scrutinized the young warlock, eyes traveling up and down his body in a way that made Merlin shiver with uneasiness. He really didn’t like the way this situation was unfolding. Not one bit. He mentally shouted at Gwaine to wake up already. But of course, the knight made no acknowledgment that he had heard the young warlock’s plea.

“Looks like a little lost servant,” the thinner man responded, a sneer marring his face. He took a step forward and Merlin pushed down the instinct to take a step back himself. He stood his ground instead, trying to keep his face from showing the slight fear he felt. “Whatcha ya doing out here, boy?”

“Just taking my friend here back to his chambers,” Merlin stated, gesturing to the still unaware Gwaine behind him. All four men’s eyes flicked over the knight quickly. The short man let out a chuckle at the sight, then looked back up at the young warlock.

“Out cold, he is,” the man pointed out.

“Not gonna be much help,” one of the large men added.

The four men looked at one another before they lunged as one toward the young warlock. Merlin yelped in surprise and jumped back only to trip over Gwaine’s feet, sending him sprawling out on the dirt.

The men were on him in an instant, grabbing his arms and hauling him to his feet, even as he struggled wildly. His magic roared in his veins, rushing to come to his aid, but Merlin squashed it down. He couldn’t afford to give up his secret, not even now. There was still a chance he could make it out of this by simpler means. He couldn’t risk using his magic in front of others and having word reach Arthur. It would do more harm than good, especially with the threat of Morgana always hanging over the king’s head. No. He would just have to find another way.

He called out to Gwaine, but a fist to his face cut it off short. His head whipped to the side with the force, leaving him stunned and dizzy. With the temporary lapse in movement from their captive, the men were able to drag him into the alleyway they had previously vacated. In a second, Merlin got his senses back and kicked, bucked and wriggled furiously in the men’s grips, trying to gain any ground he could. But he knew it was hopeless. There were four of them, all stronger than him, even the shortest one.

He cried out as he was forced to his knees in the dark alleyway, still trying to wiggle free until a sharp kick to his stomach caused him to gasp and double over. His arms were pulled violently behind him and bound tightly. It only made Merlin squirm more.

“You keep fightin’ us boy and it’ll be a lot worse,” the short one growled, punctuated with another kick, this time to his chest. The force would have sent him sprawling if the two large men hadn’t been currently keeping him firmly in place on his knees. Pain lanced up Merlin’s right side as he felt a rib give a little, but no crack was heard.

“Aw, don’t say that. I like it when they fight back. More fun that way.” Merlin could practically hear the smirk in the large man’s voice. A finger ran across his jaw line in a mockery of a loving touch. Merlin attempted to bite the damn thing off but it was snatched back at the last second. Another blow to the head followed and then a hand was in his hair, yanking his head back painfully so he was forced to stare at his attackers’ faces. Not the best view, in Merlin’s opinion.

“Now now, we can’t have that. Be a good little servant. Otherwise, we may just move on to your intoxicated friend over there after we’re done with you. Don’t think he’d give much of a fight but we could make do.” The thinner man had a menacing gleam in his eye as he spoke and a hostile grin flashed across his face. Merlin squashed the fear he felt for the knight and instead opted for glaring daggers at the large man above him. Poison-dipped sharp-as-a-razor daggers. But he lessened his struggles and just knelt there, trying to convey his defiance through his silence, breathing heavily and shaking in fear and anger. Whatever these men had planned he knew it couldn’t be good. But he also wouldn’t let them touch Gwaine, no matter what. He’d die before he let anything happen to his friend, especially in the knight’s current vulnerable state.

“That’s what I thought. Good boy.” The man released his hair and tapped him sharply on the cheek twice.

“Come on! Let’s do this already. I’m achin’!” The short man whined, reaching down to undo the laces of his breeches.

Merlin’s mind froze in terror as his magic roared in his veins once more. No. No no no no no no. They were going to—no! He didn’t want this, didn’t want this. Beatings, he’d take. Bruises, broken bones, concussions, lacerations, hell, he’d even take a stab wound. Anything but this. There was no coming back from this act of violation. No way to heal what has been broken once it had been shattered. It was the ultimate degradation, the ultimate form of torture. One that kept on giving throughout a lifetime. Always hanging over one’s head, always following obediently behind.

Despite the men’s threats, Merlin began struggling even harder than before. He almost managed to worm free, as he caught the large men off guard with his sudden surge of strength fueled by desperation. But another few punches and kicks subdued him quickly, his attempts at escape nothing more than weak tugs.

Meaty hands grasped his chin, painfully squeezing until his jaw opened under the pressure. He shook his head trying to dislodge the painful hold, but the movement only increases the sharp pounding in his skull and caused the grip to tighten. A whimper escaped his throat as the fingers dug in painfully, despite his attempts to swallow it down. He did not want to show weakness, to show how much he was hurting or how terrified he was. He could feel his magic surging just under the surface, stronger and fiercer than before, pushing all the aches and pains to the background with its intensity. Every instinct in him screamed to release it, to let it take the looming horror away before it began.

It was then that Merlin found his mouth desecrated by the most foul and vile thing he had ever tasted and that included rotten vegetables and flyaway horse dung. He tried to pull away but someone twisted their hand in his hair and gripped it painfully to keep his head in place. The hand still squeezing his jaw prevented any biting or movement at all and he soon found himself choking and gagging at the invasion. But it was as his airways were suddenly obstructed and his panic escalated that the magic seemed to have had enough and broke down his now feeble barriers. Just before it burst out, the vile thing was yanked from his mouth and he was sent toppling over into the large man to his left holding him in place. His magic retreated slightly with the change in events and he quickly tied it back down.

The man yelled in anger and surprise and reversed the young warlock’s momentum, violently throwing him to the ground. With his wrists still tied and unable to break his fall, Merlin’s head collided with the hard ground with a crack and his vision blackened for a minute. He could feel himself gasping and coughing in turns as he tried to fill his lungs with sufficient air. The sounds of a scuffle could be heard in the background, but Merlin’s focus was all but lost as he strived to breathe properly.

After a few moments, the young warlock’s vision returned gradually and he blinked a couple times to clear it. He was still gasping and breathing heavily but it was diminishing with every breath. It was then that his hearing picked up on the sound of his name. Someone was trying to get his attention.

“—Merlin. That’s it, just breathe. In, out.”

Gwaine.

The stress on his arms suddenly loosened as Merlin felt the ropes around his wrists fall away. He winced as pain rushed to the area but despite it he moved his arms to prop himself up off the ground. Hands grasped his shoulders gently and Merlin couldn’t help flinching before he relaxed slightly and allowed them to help him sit up. The world tilted alarmingly with the change in position and his vision swam once more before righting itself, leaving a fierce headache in its place.

“Lords Merlin, I’m so sorry. I—this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t want—.”

Gwaine cursed as Merlin turned the side and promptly threw up. It got rid of one revolting taste but only succeeded in replacing it with another. Merlin groaned and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, wincing as the fabric brushed along his wrists where the ropes had cut in with every movement. Was there any part of his body that didn’t hurt?

His throat felt sore, jaw ached, head pounded something terrible, and the rest of his body, especially the right side of his chest, throbbed with forming bruises. All in all, he felt terrible. And Gwaine was not helping with his chattering.

“You sobered up fast,” Merlin rasped out in an attempt to put a stop to Gwaine’s babbling of apologies. It worked like a charm.

A tentative smile formed on the knight’s face. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for damsels in distress, even when in an intoxicated state.”

“Not—” cough “—a damsel.”

“Maybe not, but definitely in distress.” The knight’s expression suddenly became serious and he raked his gaze over the young warlock once more. “Alright, come on. Let’s get you to Gaius.”

Merlin nodded once, only realizing his mistake as he did so and the pounding in his head increased. Gwaine helped him to his feet, keeping a hold of the young warlock as he swayed dangerously with the change in height. The knight ducked under Merlin’s arm, taking some of his weight, even as the knight himself was not entirely steady on his own feet.

“Well, this is a interesting change of events. Normally you’re the one dragging me home after a night in the tavern,” Gwaine chuckled half-heartedly. Merlin could tell the knight was trying to lighten the situation with jokes and jibes and though they were poor ones, Merlin was grateful. He didn’t really want to think about how close he had come to being—to losing it all. Even his secret. One more second and his magic would have burst free, effectively destroying his freedom and future in Camelot and destiny at Arthur’s side.

As they began moving out of the alleyway, Merlin finally looked around him. Two of the men were sprawled on the ground, out cold, one with a trickle of blood seeping from his hairline. The other two men were nowhere in sight.

“Thank you,” Merlin said, cursing at how his voice came out as barely more than a whisper. He tried to clear his throat, but it only resulted in several coughs.

“No Merlin, it is I who should apologize. I should not have—”

“Don’t,” Merlin interrupted. “You have nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t your fault.” Gwaine opened his mouth to protest but Merlin shut him up with a pointed look. “Not. At. All. So just stop.”

Gwaine nodded, seeing the look in the young warlock’s face and continued walking him in the direction of the castle.

Jokes, banter, and even anger he could handle. But the pity and concern that developed into apologies, not so much. Merlin wanted nothing more than to just go back to joking and laughing like they had been earlier that night. That and sleep. His head gave an incessant pound. Yeah, sleep sounded great right about now.

“You know Merlin, when I said I wanted to get you laid tonight, this is not what I had in mind.” 

Despite the raw subject of the joke, Merlin couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips.


End file.
